


The Ocean, Blue

by MadHatter13



Category: The Memoirs of Lady Trent - Marie Brennan
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Gender Identity, Supportive Tom, extended metaphors about the ocean, questioning Isabella, the ocean is just kinda really cool folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHatter13/pseuds/MadHatter13
Summary: "So long as my society refuses to admit of a concept of femininity that allows for such things," I said, "then one could indeed say I stand between."In which there are discussions of insomnia, gender, islands, and the sea.





	The Ocean, Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see some further acknowledgements of Isabella's considerations of her gender identity in Voyage of the Basilisk, so I wrote this in like two hours.

I wrote briefly in the third volume of my memoirs about how my encounter with Heali‘i and living as a third-gender person in Keonga had me rethink some of my ideas about my own self. What I spared the reader, however, was the navelgazing and the many detours that took to get there, and to accept the answer.

I spoke of how I revealed this to Suhail – but of course, only recent friends as we were at the time, he was far from my first choice on putting the whole thing into words.

I hesitate to say that I lost some sleep over it – not because I didn‘t, but because the image I try to project of utter confidence in who I am and have become is something of a shield for me, an also something that allows me _to_ live my life with direction and purpose, instead of obsessing over every little thing. But if you are going to have insomnia, there are few more pleasant places to do it than Keonga. There are no city lights to keep you awake, the waves on the shore keep your heart at ease even as you puzzle over the things keeping you awake.

But one night I decided to not be a bad housemate that kept up my companions while tossing and turning, and quietly left the hut we dwelt in to seek out solitude at the shore. That was where Tom ran into me; feet just ahead of the surf, a gentle wave and a gibbous moon.

            ‘Glad to see I’m not the only one who’s burning the midnight oil,’ he said, stopping by my side.

            ‘Why is that a good thing? It just means we’ll both be terrible tomorrow.’

            ‘It means we’re not lonely, at least,’ he said, and sat down next to me. ‘Isn’t that something?’

            ‘Maybe.’ I dug my feet deeper into the sand, treading for remnants of the noonday heat. Even a pleasant climate such as this one was less than comfortably chill at night. ‘Work kept you up?’

            ‘The opposite, really,’ he said. ‘It’s the heat. It meddles with my head during the day, and I find I can only think with complete clarity when it cools down at night – but then I have nothing to think about.’ He crossed his arms around his knees. We were both without shoes – ours were little more than rags held together with string at this point, and our feet had grown tough enough to withstand the terrain. ‘What about you? Is it classification again?’

            I snorted. ‘You’re not wrong there – but it isn’t dragons that trouble me this time.’

            ‘Is it the marriage?’ He said, always terribly perceptive.

            ‘If you can call it a marriage,’ I quipped.

            But he just frowned at me. ‘They do. I think we should grant them the respect of doing the same.’

            ‘You weren’t so fond of the idea at first.’

            ‘No, but I’ve had time to think.’ He tilted his head. ‘Although I wonder if it isn’t a little lonely, to be married to someone only in name.’

            ‘It certainly is very different from my first marriage,’ I said. ‘The fact that my spouse is a woman is the least of it, amazingly enough.’ I paused. ‘Heali’i confided to me that on other islands, further away, she has heard that ke’anaka’i are allowed to marry as they wish, and have children.’ Although she did not seem particularly envious of this fact. I admired her for a great many reasons, but the chiefest among them was that Heali’i seemed to have complete confidence in who she was, and how she lived her life.

            Tom said, ‘But that’s not really what bothers you, is it? Unless you’ve developed some affection for your wife.’

            I had the decency not to be outraged at this question. Natalie, after all, was my best friend, and through her I had met a great many people who lived their lives in remarkable (to me) ways. ‘Not in particular,’ I said. ‘Besides, she’s, what, nineteen?’

            Tom only waited for me to stop skirting around the point. I heaved a sigh. ‘It’s this third gender business,’ I told him. ‘It has been on my mind for a while now. We have no concept of it back home. ***** The Keongans do not believe it applies to foreigners – or at least Heali’i didn’t.’ I paused. ‘And now I find myself questioning it.’

            ‘The truth of it?’

            ‘No – not really. The truth of it as applying to _me_.’ I waited in case there was condemnation, but Tom and I had been through far too much together to ever outright dismiss each other. ‘I never wanted to be a man, even when I was depressed to the point of emptiness when being kept away from my studies. I did think once or twice of running away disguised as a boy to go to university, but aside from the fact that I would have had no money, I didn’t because I wanted to do what I did as _me_.’ I glared moodily at the sea, which remained calm despite my ire. ‘And up until now I always thought I knew who ‘myself’ was. I didn’t know there was a third option.’

            Tom nodded as to show he was still listening.

            ‘I keep going in circles about it. I think, ‘Ah, but I had a son – I remember it, I was there! Surely that makes me a woman.’ But then I recall some friends which cannot do the same, which seems entirely dismissive of them and who they are. And good lord, if my entire purpose as a woman was to manufacture more humans into the world, I am not doing a very good job of it, am I? But then I think ‘But you want justice and fairness for your gender, for them to have the same opportunities as their brothers, surely that qualifies you! Their gain would also be yours!’ And that is partly true.’ I squinted at the moon, now disappearing behind a veil of clouds. ‘But yesterday I found myself going about my business as we have since we arrived, and suddenly – I don’t remember the context – the Captain says to me, he says ‘You women better take care of this.’ And I thought, ‘Wait, does he mean me?’ Like if I had forgot I was one, for a while. And I thought, ‘But why does it matter? I can do these things regardless of whether I am a woman or not!’ And it wasn’t the same outrage I normally felt when people assume my ability like that. It is just that we were in front of him, me and Abby, and we were both women – apparently. And that’s how he collectively referred to us.’

            ‘I’m a bit lost,’ Tom admitted.

            ‘How do you think I feel? It’s my head that is bringing all this up!’ I picked up a piece of driftwood from the beach next to me, and began to break it apart, methodically and with only a small measure of annoyance. ‘It is like – I don’t think I mind being perceived as a woman. But I also don’t want it to matter. But is that any different from what other women with my point of view feel like? I don’t know, I haven’t asked them. Is there any definition of gender that is not in some way reliant on how other people see you? I don’t _know!_ ’ I tossed the last piece of driftwood into the ocean with malice aforethought, and sat back, embarrassed both of my outburst and my inability to articulate my thoughts.

            Tom, chin on his hand, a philosophical look on his face, said: ‘Hm.’

            ‘Forget all about it,’ I muttered. ‘This is an entirely useless thing to be thinking about.’

            ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But do you think it would trouble you so much if it didn’t at least matter?’

            For some reason those words struck me.

            ‘Forget about dragons,’ he said, ‘If only for a second. Forget about other people. What does this all mean to _you_?’

            That was harder said than done. My whole life had revolved around dragons to the point that sometimes I felt like my body was just a vehicle to carry me to and from discoveries. But even I spared some time and thoughts to other things, and people. But, it was true, rarely to myself.

            I have never been given to metaphor or simile, but perhaps the late night and our current situation was what brought those words out of the deep.

            ‘If there is an island,’ I said, ‘Called ‘woman’ – well, I suppose I do live there. I am not particularly interested in visiting the island marked ‘man’, for all that trousers remain useful.’ Tom laughed. ‘But I would like to spend some time, too, in the sea between them, diving to the bottom, investigating the coral and sharks and shoals of fish and, yes, dragons. The sea cannot somehow be classified as ‘land’ though, no matter how you look at it. It is its own entire thing that has nothing to do with islands, except maybe in the broadest ecological sense. I can spot the island from the surface, but I find the depths too interesting to worry too much about getting home on time.’

            Tom chuckled, but not derisively. ‘Reminds me of an old joke.’

            ‘Which one?’

            ‘You know, ‘Two fish come across a third, who says to them ‘lovely water today’. When he leaves, one fish asks the other, ‘what’s water?’’ He laughed again. ‘It’s supposed to be a comment on gullibility or ignorance or something, but maybe that is just where you’d like to live. Without concern, in this one respect.’

            I found myself laughing, too. ‘I suppose I must find at least one place in life that I do not take seriously – what the _hell is that?_ ’

            We both were on our feet, startled beyond belief. The sky and sea had grown dark with the moon out of sight, but that was not what had alarmed us. For there was a light, now, like a starry sky, like shimmering fog, like a field of glowing bluebells. For the sea had lit up, the actual _sea_ , with some internal light that grew stronger and brighter before our eyes, until the entire lagoon was lit with it, putting the moon to shame. The waves glittered as they broke, but left no evidence on the beach. We stood there for a long time, far too long, starting at the alarming beauty of it.

            We known, now, that this phenomenon can be traced to at least eighteen different genera of bioluminescent algae, which often light up in response to predators. They have been seen all over the world in temperate waters, from one end of the globe to the other. Learning this did not make it any less remarkable than it had been without explanation, of course. After all, it made me feel fully justified in my perception of the sea.

 

* * *

 

**Footnotes:**

***** I was, in fact, wrong on this account. Antihiopean medicine had been aware of people with ambiguously gendered bodies for centuries and in a few countries, notably Arbanitai, some people lived in gender roles that some (including me up until this point) believed incongruent with their bodies

**Author's Note:**

> "I am not given to metaphors or simile" says Isabella, Lady Trent - also known as Metaphor Central.
> 
> The discussion here is on level with fantasy-Victorian era perceptions of whatever the fuck even gender is, so language is left vague at best.
> 
> "Arbanitai" is an old greek word of "Albania", since I felt like I should try to continue the conceit of giving fantasy names to real life counter parts. Isabella is referring to Albanian "burrnesha", who live as men and take a vow of chastity, often when there is no son to do so. The discussion regarding Heali'i refers to the fact that across real-life Polynesia, there were and are many different ideas around third gendered people.
> 
> The sea glowing is a phenomenon where dinoflagellates (algae) growing in the ocean release bioluminescence at night, to scare away and drag attention to their predators so they will be caught by something higher up the food chain. I tampered a little bit with the timing and perhaps location for narrative purposes. Look up some pictures, it's really cool.


End file.
